Chapter 132: Trip to the United States

After considering for no more than five minutes, Su Ruoyun agreed.

The trip to the United States was a plan long settled; they had already secured the flight route for the private jet in advance.

Su Ruoyun carefully instructed several staff members at the teahouse on some matters, ensuring everything was in order, then told her family she was going abroad for a trip.

The Su family was used to Su Ruoyun going abroad; previously she had followed the Central Orchestra on trips lasting over half a month, which was common, so they didn't think much of it.

That evening, Su Ruoyun and Huo Jingcheng arrived at the airport. Among the many commercial airliners, a Gulfstream G700 sat quietly parked.

They boarded the shuttle bus, entered the Gulfstream G700 cabin, walked in at a leisurely pace, and the flight attendant took their luggage.

Huo Jingcheng pulled Su Ruoyun to sit down; his hand was hot, and in no time a thin sheen of sweat covered the back of her hand, yet he refused to let go.

Su Ruoyun tried to regain control of her hand from his grip, but to no avail; she remained tightly held by him.

This trip was business in nature, and behind them followed Huo Jingcheng's assistant Lin Cheng and several other assistant secretaries.

Su Ruoyun turned her head, glanced at those people, felt a hint of hesitation, was about to speak, but then stopped, "You..."

In front of Huo Jingcheng's subordinates, she chose her words carefully, but seeing his refusal to loosen his grip, she couldn't help leaning close to his ear and whispering, "Are you a child?"

Su Ruoyun's tone carried a hint of reproach; in her view, only a child would cling like that.

Upon hearing that, Huo Jingcheng raised his brows, readily released his hand, waited for Su Ruoyun to take a tissue and slowly wipe her hands clean, then his hand took hold again.

Unlike before, this time he interlaced all ten fingers; Huo Jingcheng deliberately slowed his motion for her to see, hooking her left hand and gently pressing her fingers together.

Su Ruoyun furrowed her brows, her five slender fingers twitching slightly, not a drop of water splashed; she could only let him continue holding her.

The few people sitting behind them witnessed the scene, exchanging glances, while Lin Cheng, already accustomed to it, remained especially calm, looking as if to say "You're still too young," and closed his eyes to rest.

After the plane took off smoothly, the cabin gradually grew quiet. Due to her biological clock, after just an hour, Su Ruoyun slowed her blinking, eventually tilted her head against the pillow and fell asleep.

Seeing this, Huo Jingcheng beside her unfastened her seatbelt, leaned over, hooked her knee, and easily lifted her into a horizontal carry, bringing her all the way to the resting room.

She slept deeply in the plane's steady flight and Huo Jingcheng's warm embrace, and ten hours later she woke naturally.

Su Ruoyun slowly opened her eyes, her consciousness still a bit hazy; when her awareness returned, she realized the plane was approaching Los Angeles.

Huo Jingcheng had already woken, holding an English-language newspaper; sensing the slight movement, he lifted his eyelids and asked, "Awake?"

Su Ruoyun nodded, then covered her mouth and gave a delicate yawn; her gaze through the window took in the sky—vast clouds floated like cotton fluff, and the heavens shifted from deep blue to pink‑purple.

Soon after, a uniformed flight attendant brought a refined dessert and a glass of milk.

After twelve hours of flight, they arrived smoothly at Los Angeles International Airport; Los Angeles was on daylight saving time, UTC‑7, and touchdown was at 18:00 local time.

Los Angeles, also called the "City of Angels," as they descended the shuttle bus, the sun was setting; the afterglow of the sunset streamed through the airport's glass curtain walls onto the ground, as if painting the whole airport gold.

Su Ruoyun lifted her long fingers, brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, and her fresh, lovely visage was set against the summer twilight.

Outside the airport, a Rolls‑Royce was already waiting.

Several assistants were staying at a city hotel and not joining them. The chauffeur in white gloves got out, placed their luggage in the trunk, and courteously opened the car door.

Su Ruoyun smoothed her skirt, bent to sit in the rear seat; Huo Jingcheng strode his long legs in and followed, and the luxury car promptly drove out of the airport. Their private estate lies in Bradbury, Los Angeles, just a kilometer from the famed Sunset Boulevard.

Night deepened, Los Angeles bathed in a rich orange‑red glow, streetlights along the roads flickered on one by one, the horizon stubbornly retained a hint of crimson‑purple, vivid and intense; on the endless stream of cars, sedans shot past, leaving only blurred afterimages.

They arrived at the estate at 7:45 p. m.; even though it was not a frequently used residence, it was fully staffed, and the manor chef, having been notified, had already prepared dinner in anticipation of the owners' arrival.

Dinner consisted of creamy lobster pasta, seared ribeye steak, lobster bisque, and chocolate‑filled croissants……

After dinner, Huo Jingcheng took a work call; Su Ruoyun climbed the spiral staircase to the second floor, the hallway suffused with a faint woody fragrance.

There were plenty of spare rooms; she picked a pleasing bedroom, dumped her suitcase onto the floor, unzipped it, and neatly arranged her belongings. Once everything was tidy, she went into the bathroom, took a bath to relax her nerves.

The warm water enveloped her completely; Su Ruoyun enjoyed this moment of quiet freedom.

Just after leaving the bathroom, lingering mist still clung to her; Su Ruoyun used a hair dryer to half‑dry her slightly wavy long hair, the tips still damp, it fell obediently behind her, and the scent of hydrangea‑infused hair oil lingered in the air.

She shuffled out in slippers, swaying slowly from the bathroom; as soon as she stepped onto the mat, her foot halted abruptly.

The silhouette by the bed was too tall for her to ignore.

Huo Jingcheng sat leisurely on the bedside, naturally leaning against the headboard, now dressed in a soft silk pajama that gently wrapped his torso; his forehead bangs were still damp, still carrying post‑shower moisture, a string of droplets slid down his hair and left a small wet patch on the pajamas.

In his hand he held a book, his long fingers idly turning the pages; the only sound in the room was the rustle of paper, exuding a full‑blown husband vibe.

Su Ruoyun's steps finally stopped at the foot of the bench; although she was already wrapped in a bathrobe covering her entirely, she instinctively lifted her hand to cover her chest, eyeing Huo Jingcheng warily and asking, "Why are you in my room?"

Upon hearing that, Huo Jingcheng's page‑turning halted, the soft rustle ceased; he lazily lifted his long lashes and replied in an utterly natural tone, "Just sleeping."